


A Simple Change of Heart

by zanthe



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:00:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24281728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zanthe/pseuds/zanthe
Summary: Fate was ever unpredictable, and things would be boring without it. As Shulk travels, Zanza has a change of heart.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 67





	A Simple Change of Heart

Zanza had not meant to grow attached to the child.

He was meant to be nothing more than a sacrifice. A vessel to house his soul until his power was fully restored. The child had died on the mountain, but it was odd to see the soul persist. Well, fragments of it, at least. 

“Shulk” they had called him. A bit of a twist of his former name, a little cruel almost. He’d leave his vessel behind, just like his previous mortal form. Dickson was left to raise him, and Zanza merely observed, mostly out of boredom. 

Shulk was an odd child. It could probably be because he was technically dead, and his soul was in pieces, but he behaved almost mindlessly for years to come, until Zanza watched his little soul reform, and strengthen with life. Maybe he gave it a little push. Boredom, of course, and curiosity. Was this what he’d always have been like?

The child had a passion for machinery. Math, science, engineering, biology, the child was full of drive to understand the world around him, and it made Zanza feel a smidge of nostalgia. He’d been a scientist himself in his first life, after all, and he knew all too well the hunger for knowledge. It had driven him here, and the pursuit had left him dreadfully bored now that he had accomplished his dream of knowing all. 

This world was of his making, and he knew every particle of it. He could see the flow of time, up to certain points, and it was those branches that intrigued him. The uncertainty of fate was the only excitement left in the world. 

Still, it was an odd charm to see from the child’s perspective. Sometimes, Shulk would be awestruck by the beauty of the Bionis, and it left Zanza feeling just a little proud of himself, as well as something else he couldn’t quite place.

He’d learn what it was as Shulk got older. War was a bitter thing, and watching the child’s friend die at the claws of a Mechon, well. It was inconsequential, but it did motivate the boy towards Zanza’s ultimate goal. A pang of sympathy was felt, but nothing more. There was no use getting attached to your vessel, after all. Maybe it was whatever remnant of humanity he had left in him that made him feel… sad, almost. 

Quietly, he continued to watch, with a gentle nudge here and there to further his goals. Watching the peoples of Bionis struggle, though, as they were attacked relentlessly, made him a twinge annoyed. Angry, even. They were his creations, and they were not meant to be slaughtered by pathetic machines!

No, their purpose was to live their short lives, and continue a cycle of returning ether to the Bionis. Though, watching them now, so intimately, he wondered what he’d been missing out on all those years. Forcing himself away, not caring, this life was to sustain him, yet it was life nonetheless. The fragment of humanity in him pulled him into the colony. Subconsciously, he drove Shulk across the streets, watching the people idle by, eavesdropping on their conversations. Trivial things, really. He hadn’t paid much attention before, Shulk’s childhood had been a blur, but after Prison Island he was much more awake. Much more present, though he couldn’t do more than whisper in Shulk’s head or guide his subconscious when he wasn’t paying attention. 

He snapped out of the moment quickly, a god shouldn’t indulge in such meaningless things, after all.

It was harder to resist as time went by, however. Zanza was unable to sleep through it now, awake to watch the boy struggle. He could hear his inner thoughts, his doubts, his convictions. His vessel, once a mere fragment, now a boy with a mind of his own. 

Shulk dreamt that night, and on a whim, Zanza joined him. He took the form he had in his previous life, and cast the dream into a vast field of green, one he’d often studied in as a boy. He approached Shulk, and the boy stared at him curiously. He was used to vivid dreams like these. 

“Who’re you?” He asked, and Zanza, no, Klaus, responded.

“Someone inconsequential.” Klaus smiled.

Shulk frowned, “I see. I should be used to cryptic visitors by now.” 

“Walk with me,” Klaus prompted, and the boy followed. They strolled through the tall grass, and he watched Shulk pause now and then to look at the scenery. “This place doesn’t exist in reality anymore,” Klaus found himself sighing, “but I wanted to show it to you.” 

“To me? Why?” Shulk questioned, brows furrowing in thought. It was odd, they hadn’t met before, to Shulk’s knowledge. 

Klaus hummed in thought, “No particular reason, I suppose. To be honest with you, I don’t know why I’m here.” The wind blew against them as Shulk walked up to him curiously. 

The end of the dream was abrupt, and Zanza decided next time, maybe, he’d give Shulk his former name. It would be meaningless information, but, he mused, it could be interesting to talk to him.

Their next meeting would be on the Fallen Arm. The effects of the Apocrypha were fresh on his mind, what a pest that Machina was, and what a headache that machine was. Zanza himself had restabilized with ease, but Shulk had been shaken to his core, and his control over the Monado faltered. 

In his dream they met on the cliffs of Klaus’s hometown. “You seem troubled, Shulk.” He’d looked at the boy with a frown that was only a little pretend. The boy merely sighed and took a seat at the edge of the cliff.

“I don’t know what I’ll do against the Apocrypha, even just activating the Monado hurts.” He stared at the waves crashing below. “I won’t let them know, though, my friends are relying on me.”

“How admirable of you,” Klaus murmured, “but you should know better than to doubt yourself, Shulk. You’ve come this far, you’ll persevere.” 

Shulk scoffed half-heartedly, “You sound so certain.” 

“I am. And I know you’re more than capable. I’ve been with you longer than you know, after all.” He left it at that, Shulk blinking up at him before the dream was cut short. 

Perhaps a little too much information there, but regardless, Shulk seemed to take his words to heart. It was just a simple push in the right direction, Zanza lied to himself. Soon enough, fate would lead them to the core of the Mechonis, and there, he would re-emerge. 

Except, that didn’t go quite as planned.

As Shulk progressed closer to the core, Zanza found himself lending more and more of his power to the boy, helping counter the effects of the Apocrypha, at least when he tried to rest. His will to continue, his will for peace, he felt it, and Zanza’s plans began to crumble in his hands. 

He was silent as Shulk held the Monado over his head, and quietly he observed his offer to peace to the annoyance that called himself Egil. He felt no guilt for his actions in the past, but perhaps there could be peace between them. There could be much else to occupy himself with in this world, if he bothered to interact with its inhabitants. If he got bored, he could always resume his plot to start anew. Yes, he could give it a shot.

Well, he would’ve, but Dickson caught them both off guard. Forced out of his vessel before he was even mentally prepared, Zanza watched Shulk’s body fall to the floor, and out of pure reflex used his power to soften his landing. He didn’t pay much mind to the voices around him, instead he stared up at Dickson, whose smirk twisted into a confused scowl when Zanza’s gaze was less than approving. 

“You’ve changed, haven’t you?” Meyneth asked, staring at him from her vessel. 

Zanza shrugged, raising a hand over Shulk’s body to heal his wound. “The boy is oddly convincing, I’m sure you’re aware.” There was a sadness to his voice, “I have been watching him for a very long time. You can put your weapons down,” he shot a glare to the Homs, “I bear no ill intent.” 

“Why should we give an ounce of trust to your words?” Egil snarled, but Meyneth raised a hand for him to stop.

“It’s alright, we’ll hold him to it.” She said.

As if they could stand a chance against him, Zanza huffed to himself, but no matter. He teleported himself away, along with Dickson, who would probably not do well on his own given the situation. 

In Shulk’s dreams, they spoke one last time.

“You’re Zanza.”

“Yes.”

“Am I dead?” 

“No, you’re Shulk, and you’re very much alive. At least, you will be when you wake up. When you’re ready to talk, find me at the Three Sage Summit.”

“Talk? From what I heard of you, I’d have expected to have to fight you.”

Zanza chuckled at that, “I’ve had a change of heart, you could say. I’ll be expecting you there, but be sure to come alone. Or, maybe bring Meyneth with you.” 

Shulk didn’t respond for a second, so Zanza continued, “You have my word no harm will befall you, but if you take too long I’ll have to find you instead, I suppose.” With that, the dream ended, and Zanza found himself waiting at the Summit, thinking of what he would even say, or do. A familiar laugh sounded in front of him, and he looked up to find Alvis standing there with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “And you, what have you been up to?”

“Nothing,” Alvis hummed, “I have merely been observing. I didn’t think you had it in you to have such a drastic change of heart.” 

“Neither did I, but fate has a way of branching now, doesn’t it?” 

Alvis nodded at that, “This timeline was so slim of a chance I cannot see a thing of what happens now.” 

Zanza smiled at that, “Good, predetermined fate was beginning to get boring, anyways. We’ll see what comes next when it gets here.”

"What will you do now?" Alvis asks, and Zanza thinks for a moment.

"I know everything about this world, but it's been milennia since I walked in it. I think I'll have a look around again, find out more about its inhabitants." He mused, and Alvis nods to him. If it went well, then maybe gods and mortals _could_ exist in a peaceful symbiosis. If not, well. He'd try to stay optimistic.

For now, at least.

**Author's Note:**

> There might be a part two later, but no promises.


End file.
